


Let's Bite This Cherry a Second Time

by Anchan (Anchan_thevolleyballplayer)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Lee Minho | Lee Know, College AU, Coming In Pants, Domesticity, First Dates, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Foreplay, Getting Together, Grinding, Han Jisung | Han is Whipped, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, M/M, Making Out, One Night Stand, Overstimulation, Pet Names, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:08:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25749397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anchan_thevolleyballplayer/pseuds/Anchan
Summary: But that’s most days, the ones where Jisung is no more than a broke student.Today, Han Jisung is lucky – because a night at the local club that was meant as stress relief and a celebration of turning in an important assignment in time now results in swinging his hips flush against Minho’s.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 30
Kudos: 372
Collections: MINSUNG BINGO: Round One





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For @minsungbingo on twitter. Prompts: Foreplay || Top Han Jisung/Bottom Lee Minho
> 
> He's technically not bottoming in this part of the fic yet, but it plays a role in their dynamic. If there's interest, I may publish another chapter - the mentioned "next time"

Most days, his life is no more than one big familiar disaster, balancing school with music producing and a side job to keep his income steady. He cannot be blamed, rather sympathised with by everyone he knows, since most of them have to suffer through this with him.

Or at least Chan does, since Changbin doesn’t need to earn money and no one else spends countless nights huddled in a studio chair and composing songs that will never see the light of the day. Or at least not anytime soon since they’re no more than Soundcloud almost-famous.

They’re trying, and that’s what counts.

But that’s most days, the ones where Jisung is no more than a broke student.

Today, Han Jisung is lucky – because a night at the local club that was meant as stress relief and a celebration of turning in an important assignment _in_ time now results in swinging his hips flush against Minho’s.

Yes, _that_ Lee Minho, the rumoured to be a rookie idol upperclassman that Jisung’s been ogling ever since he first stumbled into him in his first year. Now, a few months into passing each other at the campus, the older seems to be entranced by him.

It’s like a dream come true – and Jisung has stopped trying to convince himself he’s _only_ dreaming.

Because Minho’s touch is too warm for that, hands spreading fire through his body from where they rest on his hips, thumbs stroking his sides. The warmth that hoards between their bodies when he leans back into his chest makes Jisung’s brain melt into mush.

Which is what makes everything a little too rushed. There’s a hasty exchange, “ _wanna have you in me_ ” being breathed out against Minho’s neck, and an answering, “ _let’s get out of here_ ” that travels through his ear and all the way down his spine. 

And then he’s gone, vision blurred by want and lust – and without knowing how, Minho is soon falling into his lap on the couch of his dorm room. They fall back into the rhythm.

“Take it easy, babe,” he addresses Minho somewhere between kisses, but the older refuses to comply. Not that it disappoints him – quite the opposite. Together with the fact that Minho accepted being called babe, it riles him up even more.

“Make me,” Minho breathes out, words poured into his mouth. His own moan drowns out whatever Minho would want to say next – and then there’s a tongue sliding along with his own that makes him forget whatever response he’s had planned.

Another moan that enters his mouth, and he swallows eagerly, feeling up Minho’s chest and focusing on all the soft sounds it extracts.

He strives off knowing the effect he has, at least tonight. Maybe the spell will wear off by the time they meet in school; he’s fully prepared to undergo the embarrassment of Minho letting him down like what he would expect someone his league to do.

But for now, the only thing he worries about is pleasuring Minho (and, currently, unbuttoning his shirt). The needy whines that he elicits with nothing but simple body contact are a sign he’s doing this right.

A hushed plea, “ _feels good, don’t stop_ ,” goes straight towards his abdomen.

Their hands are everywhere – Minho’s gripping his shoulders with more force than intended, and Jisung running them under the older’s shirt. For a dancer, Minho is pretty skinny, yet his body feels perfect under Jisung’s touch.

He’s positive he’s ascended into heaven when he feels Minho grind down onto his lap, dragging his hips against the forming bulge in his pants. The same bulge decorates his own crotch, but Jisung denies touching it just yet.

Maybe Minho will let him touch it after they move to bed, but right now, the sheer pressure and eagerness of Minho’s movements is enough to keep him aroused.

The older is a little too needy and touchy, a bonus Jisung would have only dreamed about with no expectation of seeing it live. A teeny tiny bit whiny. But that’s just as charming – and he’s too far gone to question it. Too busy with savouring every sound that leaves Minho’s mouth by his own lips.

“ _Jisungie,_ ” this one sounds way too desperate, added up with Minho’s hips desperately pushing down and thighs tightening around his legs. The older’s pace picks up, rubbing them both in a more intense manner.

One of Jisung’s hands comes to rest on Minho’s thigh, stroking up and down. It was meant to relieve pressure and help him refocus, but it only makes Minho more sensitive.

He breaks away to ask whether Minho is doing okay, but the boy dives back without an answer. However, his tongue doesn’t match the previous pace, too sloppy and slow. It’s an obvious signal to slow down, yet the older proceeds to ignore it.

Trying not to smile and disconnect their lips again, Jisung willingly slows down to match _him_ – to which Minho grumbles in protest, and then there’s no helping it and their kiss is broken again.

But instead of getting back, Jisung moves his focus to where they’re joined.

Minho’s head stretches back, revealing his neck and the younger attaches to it on instinct, sucking a soft mark into the skin right above his pulse point. Another one under his jaw.

“You’re so hot, I want you inside of me already,” he confesses and his teeth graze one of the blooming marks. Minho answers with a moan, voice breaking in the middle.

And then his movement slows down.

Jisung dives forward again, lips attaching to one of the already forming marks. Just a press, then one long stripe licked up the older’s neck. Minho’s body is shaking underneath his touch. He means to create another blooming mark, one that would colour the side of Minho’s jaw, make him look pretty–

“I- please give me a moment,” Minho’s words are no more than a broken whisper, but they’re enough to make Jisung pull back.

He’s considered too wild in bed, and it’s not like he hasn’t been told this to his face. Usually, a comment like that only riles him up more – but this is Lee Minho, so maybe he should really slow down.

If he wants to gain something from this, that is. Like, you know, a relationship. A friend with benefits – the label doesn’t matter. Ideally a boyfriend, though.

He waits for Minho to regain his composure, breath evening out and eyes that fluttered shut refocusing on his face. It feels nice, too, to see Minho blissed out. Which is probably what this is, since there’s no more pressure on his crotch, and when he experimentally thrusts up, he’s met with resistance and familiar squirming.

But he expect Minho to shake it off, or at least say something. Instead, the older melts into his chest – which is the least expected scenario, considering how aroused he’s been until now.

And yet, it somehow makes sense.

His arms enclose around Minho’s body to press him closer, enjoying the warmth that hoards in between. And the sound of Minho’s heartbeat which sounds as if he’s just won a marathon. He probably isn’t better, though.

“Are we… still doing this?” he asks uncertainly. The silence stretches.

“Doing what?” Minho inquires, picking up his head – which seems to be a fairly hard task now. Jisung internally coos. “Oh, you didn’t come yet.”

“I- no, I didn’t,” Jisung confirms, letting out a chuckle. “I kind of wanted you to fuck me.”

Minho’s cheek immediately catch aflame. Then he begins stumbling, partly trying to detach himself from Jisung until he slips and almost tips backwards. It’s when Jisung secures the older in his arms that he finally stops squirming.

“No, I, uhm,” Minho’s voice jumps a little higher, “you’ve got this wrong. I’m not… the one…”

“Are you a bottom?” Unexpected, but far from unpleasant. “All okay with that, too,” he winks, but then his smile drops. What he expected to be shyness doesn’t disappear from Minho’s features. 

He stares at the older in question, patiently waiting for an answer. “Jisungie… I wasn’t about to go further. I’m sorry.”

That feels like a bullet through his stomach.

“No, no, don’t get me wrong,” the older adds when he processes Jisung’s expression, “I enjoyed this a lot. I just… didn’t expect us to go further.”

Sort of funny, since they left the club for that particular reason, with one of them being too eager to get their hands and lips on Jisung, and the other simply following their lead. He’s pretty sure Minho was mumbling something about making him feel good when they pressed against each other on the dancefloor.

“You don’t have to be ready, of course,” Jisung shakes his head, though the pang in his stomach is telling a different story. “Sorry for rushing you.”

And then, Minho’s lips are covering his. No more than a simple press to get his point across, a sign of consent – but then his hands claim their place around Jisung’s neck and he tilts his head to the side for better access. Minho slides his tongue inside for a moment, then captures Jisung’s between his lips. Jisung’s head is spinning when the older pulls back, just as breathless.

”You’re a good kisser. Let’s do this again someday.”

Jisung wants to argue because it’s Minho whose lips have been driving him crazy, but he chooses to nod. That’s way more compatible with pressing his lips against Minho’s. Here comes another kiss, a short peck, before Minho pulls back again. 

“And…” Minho trails off, reaching for Jisung’s hand to intertwine their fingers before his head disappears in the crook of his neck again. “Let’s finish what we started, then.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here we go! Let's bite this cherry a second time~

_A final peck lands on Minho’s lips, then he dares to turn around and reach for his jacket. Jisung keeps holding onto his waist even as he works his arms into the sleeves, eyes burning into his face. He’s gained confidence – the look he’s aiming at Minho is unlike the shy glances they have exchanged in the club._

_But that’s understandable. They were strangers – now they’re familiar, though mostly with each other’s tongues._

_“See you tonight,” Jisung mumbles against his jaw sweetly. “I’ll take good care of you, babe.”_

_He doesn’t mention the pet name, even though it makes his heartbeat faster and cheeks warm up – instead, he turns around and leaves Jisung behind._

_The younger can’t see him blush that way._

Minho’s stomach is filled with liquid nervousness, crashing waves of both excitement and uneasiness. When under Jisung’s touch, the liquid burns and fuels his passion; but it makes him feel sick on an empty stomach.

He should have made it clear that night, rather than simply turning Jisung down and asking for another attempt – because that way, Jisung would know what he’s going into. Maybe he would take it slowly, or maybe he would gently let him down. 

It’s the latter that makes Minho keep the truth inside. After all, _he_ doesn’t mind the wildness that is Han Jisung, and although he can’t respond that quickly yet, what better way is there to get used to it?

It’s a one-time chance, getting this close to the fiery freshman that captured the heart of many – but most importantly Minho’s – so he may as well shoot his shot. If the younger ends up saying no just because he has no experience, then he’s gonna gain some experience before that happens.

It might not be obvious, but he’s more excited than scared. Even if he should be cautious, he’s already gotten a taste of the blessing that is Han Jisung. Well, way more than just one taste. He wants more.

Tonight – roughly 24 hours from when he first approached the younger and asked him for a dance, before the whole encounter took a swift turn and ended up with making out on the couch of Jisung’s dorm room, on which he was then allowed to sleep – he just might get that chance.

He stands in the hallway of Jisung’s building, half expecting to find the younger already waiting for him in his underwear – instead, he’s greeted with a bowl of popcorn and the most adorable domestic looking boy.

Hard to believe this is the person who drove him past the edge yesterday.

“Come in, baby,” Jisung offers him a bright smile that Minho returns with warm cheeks, stepping away from the door to let him inside and guiding him towards the couch.

That one familiar place of his dorm, maybe they’ll continue what they’ve started right here.

Instead, the place is prepared for what Minho assumes is a movie night, table brimming with snacks and a couple of DVDs piled on the floor, waiting to be played or rejected and sent back into the box.

“Which genre do you prefer?” 

And just like that, his anticipation fades away, replaced by a comforting dullness. They start a movie, feed each other popcorn, and argue over the main characters and their personalities – when the movie ends, Jisung inserts another one. They repeat.

By the time he catches Jisung eyeing the next movie on their list, he becomes impatient. Not that he’s complaining, today is great. They’ve woken up in the same dorm, had breakfast together, and exchanged chaste kisses before heading to class. Now, at the end of the day, they’re watching movies and occasionally reaching over to brush their hands together.

A true romantic first date.

However, that’s not exactly what Minho signed up for. He’s far from bothered by it, really, because despite the initial interest being merely driven by arousal, it doesn’t change anything on the way his heart flutters when Jisung is near.

Having more than just a one night – or two – out of this would be nice.

A second night would be just about enough, but the more time he spends mindlessly staring at the tv screen, the less convinced he is about such.

Jisung _is_ taking a good care of him, feeding him snacks and letting Minho rest his head on his shoulder. One of his hands have found its place on Minho’s thigh, stroking it with passion. It started as a simple gesture, gentle enough to be overlooked – as of now, the movement becomes way more purposeful.

He must have noticed the way Minho flinches when his hands travel a little too high, and melts when his fingers dip just the right amount into his inner thighs, teasing his skin under the seam of his jeans.

And still, Jisung takes it slow.

All Minho wants is to make it faster, though, let the feeling building in his stomach spread across his body and the sensation of Jisung fingers to travel across each centimetre of his skin.

The ending credits start rolling not long after, which is only fortunate because Minho is practically vibrating in his seat by now. The moment the screen dulls into black, he reaches for the remote, ignoring Jisung’s confused comments and turns the tv off.

When he returns his attention to Jisung, the younger is already looking at him. Expectantly. 

That’s all it takes to lose his temper, pushing Jisung down until his back hits the cushions, hungrily diving for his lips. Jisung reacts almost immediately, tangling his hands into Minho’s hair and muffling his soft giggles against Minho’s lips.

Somehow, it feels hundred times better than yesterday, missing the familiar buzz on his tongue.

“Please take the advantage like last time,” Minho breathes out against his lips, and misses the cue of Jisung licking into his mouth again. Instead, he gently bites Minho’s lower lip, delicately dragging it through his teeth.

“I want you to enjoy it, too,” he returns, words murmured against Minho’s mouth. His hands travel towards Minho’s stomach, feeling him up and flicking across his belly button. However, when Minho leans into the touch, the younger backs away.

“I do- I did- _Jisung,_ ” it comes out as a desperate whine – not exactly what he hoped for.

It’s _frustrating_.

He takes the matter into his own hands and straddles Jisung’s lap, locking his eyes on him as he grinds down. Jisung seems surprised by the sudden shift but he regains his composure quickly.

His hands clasp around Minho’s waist to guide him through the movement – which, admittedly, becomes less awkward the moment Jisung takes the lead. He presses down harder, and the quiet gasp that escapes Jisung’s lips proves he’s done well.

The growing hardness underneath pushes just right against his own groin, and the pleasure increases tenfold when Jisung pushes him down and grinds up.

“Come here baby,” leaves Jisung as a satisfied groan. When Minho leans down like instructed, he captures his lips in a hungry kiss. “You feel amazing.”

“Just wait ‘till you have me undressed,” Minho returns. He’s enjoying the way this new angle rubs against him, but once the image of getting Jisung down to his underwear appears, he can’t get it out of his head.

When his hands slip under Jisung’s shirt to caress his sides, the younger gets the hint. And after a little manoeuvring and ordering around, his wish comes true.

“You’re hot,” he confesses when Jisung turns back to him, giving him a proper view of the expanse of his chest. He catches himself off guard – he didn’t mean to say those words out loud, but they’re true, and the way Jisung seems to fall apart from them is worth the little embarrassment.

Maybe this is what makes Jisung weak, being praised.

Even if not – it’s worth the try, so Minho notes his observation, hoping to get an opportunity to test it soon. Getting Jisung to blush and sputter is a good enough win and a great bonus to whatever is about to happen. 

He captures Jisung’s lips again, running his hands over his stomach to savour the feeling, absorbing the smallest of gasps that Jisung feeds him.

However, Jisung disconnects his lips after what feels too short, pulling himself up from the couch.

“Where are you going?” he gives Jisung a confused look, watching as the younger adjusts his pants and motions Minho to stand up.

“The bed,” he replies nonchalantly, “that will be way more comfortable.”

And so, Minho lets himself get pulled onto his feet, following Jisung in a similar hasty fashion to their last meeting. However, there’s much more happening inside of his head today. As much as his thoughts are clouded by lust and the need to touch, being denied of friction after Jisung riled him up with expectation, he tries to keep his senses sharp. That way, he may last longer.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Jisung whispers those words into Minho’s skin, lightly pressing his mouth above his heart, then follows the line of his collar bone.

Minho nods instead of an answer, unable to form proper words. His fingers are pressed tightly into Jisung’s sides, and he worries he will leave marks, but Jisung doesn’t tell him to stop.

His whole body is buzzing with pleasure, and though they haven’t done much yet, he already feels getting close to the edge. Somewhere in the close distance, he can already see himself letting loose.

Two fingers make him feel impossibly full at first, but it’s nothing compared to the third one. He keeps his eyes shut and breathes in deep, reminding himself of the way Jisung will make him feel once he’s inside. Thousand times better than this.

He almost moans in protest when Jisung pulls out, his voice swallowed by Jisung sealing their lips.

He can feel his hole twitching, a phantom touch of getting stretched, Jisung’s fingers loosening him like scissors. He’s done so to himself before, but it cannot compare.

And then comes emptiness and cold, followed by shuffling and rustling of the sheets. When he opens his eyes to observe what Jisung is doing, he’s handed the bottle of lube.

He watches silently as Jisung slips out of his underwear, tearing the condom package with his teeth and rolling it onto himself, adjusting it until it fits comfortably around him, then reaching for the bottle in Minho’s hand and smearing its content into his own palm.

Minho gulps when he witnesses Jisung stroking himself, smearing lube onto himself and relieving some of the pressure building inside of his stomach. Jisung’s eyes flutter shut at the sensation, prolonging his moment for a little longer than needed before aligning himself with Minho’s hole.

“Are you sure you want to go that far?” he asks, lingering above him, fingers tracing Minho’s chest and eyes running across every expanse of his skin. He’s biting his lip in worry and anticipation, and Minho has to hold himself back from sinking his teeth into it.

“Yes,” Minho confirms, locking his gaze with Jisung’s to come off more confident, despite the tremble in his voice. A gentle hand caresses his cheek, and he repeats himself more firmly.

“Okay, let’s take it slow,” Jisung nods and finally pushes in.

Inch by inch, their bodies get closer, sinking into the mutual warmth. Jisung goes as slowly as he can, stopping here and there to request consent. Minho whines out a _yes_ every time, but he never stops asking, his sweet voice resonating through the room like a song.

“Babe, I don’t want to hurt you,” Jisung reasons. “Squeeze my arm if it’s too much.”

He tries to concentrate on the sensation of Jisung’s hand massaging his scalp instead of the burning stretch growing sharper. It hurts slightly, but it’s easy to forget about when Jisung’s lips pepper kisses across his face, between his knitted brows and all the way down, over his softly parted lips.

And then all over again.

“Tell me when you’re ready,” Jisung whispers into his ear, peppering kisses down his jaw until he reaches Minho’s lips, and lets himself get pulled down for a heated kiss.

If getting used to the tightness takes him longer than it should, Jisung doesn’t point it out.

He doesn’t give Jisung a verbal command to move, but his needy lips convey the message for him, mouthing silent pleas for the younger to move, to kiss him again and again. Jisung complies.

His thrusts are gentle and slow, yet Minho finds his body rolling with the motion.

And it’s not unpleasant – not at all, though it might take a few times to thoroughly enjoy it. It’s not flawless either, but it might be once he gets used to the stretch and submits to the pleasure.

Jisung keeps the slow pace, delicately rubbing himself inside, letting Minho’s walls to swallow him up until his shape imprints into Minho’s body. He treats Minho to endless kisses, sucking on his lips to draw out colour and Minho’s melodic moans.

Eventually, the pleasure over weights any pain he felt when they started.

Minho doubts there’s anything in this world that feels as good as this. If making love makes everyone ascend into seventh heaven, he never wants to get enough. And maybe he should regret not being able to experience it sooner, but he’s glad that his first time belongs to Jisung.

 _His first time belongs to Jisung._ The younger doesn’t know, thinks Minho is simply easily overwhelmed, and yet he treats him so gently, does his best to make everything perfect. But it won’t take long – Minho will prove himself, and soon, he will be the one treating Jisung with passion.

Jisung won’t regret this, sleeping with a virgin. 

“What was that, baby?”

Minho freezes, brain shutting down. It sounds almost as if Jisung heard him, and when he thinks back, he can clearly remember his lips pronouncing his last thoughts out loud.

That shouldn’t have happened; he should say something, explain, apologise–

“I-” another violent shiver tears through his body, almost paralysing. “Jisung, it’s a lot–”

A whispered _shh_ against his skin makes him shiver, sending him stuttering on the words he might not be ready to say, and yet he’s opening his mouth once more. “I lied to you, I’ve never done this before – being a bottom, whatever – _ah_ – nothing like this.”

“I figured,” Jisung replies, “and I’m here to guide you through it.”

“Even though… you might not enjoy it?”

Jisung laughs breathlessly, head falling into the crook of his neck. “Do you really think I’m not enjoying this, Minho?”

A particularly deep thrust triggers a guttural moan, shattering whatever response he’s prepared.

“I don’t know how to make you feel good,” he admits, finding it difficult to catch his breath. “But as long as you like this, just do whatever you want.”

“Look, we have a bunch of time to work on it, it’s your first time,” Jisung says, laughing gently. It sounds so honest and sweet, almost as if it mattered. A faint promise of yet another night.

It makes Minho feel special.

“First time,” he mindlessly repeats under his breath.

“Those are tough,” Jisung agrees, “but you’re doing so good. It’ll only get better. Trust me,” _with my life,_ Minho’s brain supplies, but he doesn’t repeat it out loud, “I’ll make sure you’ll have your best first time with me.”

An embarrassing moan bubbles out of Minho, and Jisung leans down again to connect their lips and swallow up any further sounds that Minho makes. Once he fully gets used to the sensation, there’s quite a lot of them – and Minho’s done sexual things before, but never quite like this, and he wouldn’t have guessed he’s such a baby when it comes to intercourse.

And yet, he can’t help it, all the emotions dancing inside of his stomach need to be let out. 

The younger makes everything feel hot, a liquid gasoline slowly lighting up to make their bodies burn and sweat. The leisure honey-like movements of their bodies mingling into one, heavy exhales floating around the room and tasting each other with such fervour as if they were made of sugar.

Minho becomes louder and louder, out of control before he can properly reach out and hold onto something. He has let go of all control the moment his gaze met Jisung’s in the night club. 

Even without, he feels safe underneath Jisung.

He’s blabbering, words hard to make out to his brain through the veil of arousal and haziness covering his senses, consciousness merely dependent on the sensation of Jisung’s mouth. His body is vibrating more than before, shaking, and desperately chasing after the younger.

And then everything blacks out.

Jisung slows down to a rocking pace, rather focusing on caressing Minho’s face, brushing his hair out of his sweaty forehead, and asking him if he’s okay. Once again, Minho finds it hard to answer. 

“You good?” Jisung questions, leaning down to press a light kiss to Minho’s forehead. He waits until Minho nods and his breathing evens out, then connects their lips. His hands reach towards Minho’s belly, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his skin and smearing the white mess around. It tickles.

“Okay, let me get myself off,” Jisung says after a moment, hands detaching from Minho’s body to heave himself up. He doesn’t pull out, though.

Minho stares at him in confusion. “You didn’t…?”

Jisung shakes his head, “no, sorry, you caught me off guard.”

It shouldn’t be surprising, not when they’ve had this conversation yesterday already. And yet, it makes his stomach drop with disappointment. Last time, he was too shaken up to offer a helping hand, but it doesn’t feel right to leave everything to Jisung. Not now. Not after he’s treated him so kindly until now, providing everything he needs and definitely didn’t ask for. 

“Are you close?”

“Yeah, it won’t take me long,” he nods, shivering. “Do you wanna lend me a hand?”

The silence stretches for exactly three seconds before Minho pushes him off to the side and climbs up. He flinches when it causes Jisung to move inside of him, but it’s not enough to stop him.

“I have a better idea,” he proposes, lips stretching into a smirk despite the slight discomfort.

Starting slowly, he works his way around, figuring out how to move his hips properly. Although a helping hand would make it easier to move, he wants to prove he can do it himself, and so he doesn’t request Jisung’s help even when his vision starts to blur.

Being above Jisung gives him a good view of the younger falling apart – an addictive view that drives him crazy and pushes him forward, giving him the strength to move even when his body would much rather fall apart. And with each drop of his hips, Jisung gets louder and more gone.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes out, watching as Jisung denies thrusting up, instead twisting his hands in the sheets, and stretching his throat back as he swallows down a moan.

“You’re doing amazing,” Jisung returns when he regains his senses, and he doesn’t muffle his moan this time, face scrunching up and mouth hanging open.

A proud warmth collects in Minho’s chest – he’s the one who can make Jisung feel like this.

The victorious feeling lasts for maybe twenty seconds before the exhaustion settles in, making it harder to move, turning his thrusts sloppier. His body shakes with the persistence to keep going, and he leans back onto his arms to keep himself upright.

Which is when a spark runs through his body, momentarily blinding his vision with a flash of pleasure.

It happens again, just as vividly.

The world spins, and his legs feel like giving out – it’s not long after that he loses balance completely, letting the pleasure overtake him. Everything feels twice as sensitive as it should, but he doesn’t stop.

Jisung seems to understand his struggles, hands coming to rest on his hips and guiding him through the movement. “Get down here, I’ll help you through.”

“No, I’ve got this,” he answers through gritted teeth, trying his best to not topple over. It feels beyond heavenly, and definitely past the safety line, but he isn’t going to stop until he’s done his part. 

“You- don’t have t-” a sharp moan tears out of Jisung’s mouth, “ _shit,_ I’m close, very close.”

The sound travels all the way down. He shivers. 

“Come inside,” he commands. It comes out as a high-pitched moan, and Jisung squeezes his thighs in return, rubbing soothing circles into his skin, fingers shaking. They’re both holding onto the last strings of control. 

“Are you-”

“If- if I hear you doubt my words one more time, I’ll bite off your dick,” he stresses, and drags his hips down for punctuation. 

Jisung laughs in disbelief, swallowing back a groan. “I won’t let you blow me anytime soon, then.”

“Oh yeah, you will,” Minho flashes him a wink.

He’s too exhausted to be charismatic, but it somehow gets a reaction out of Jisung anyway.

“Not before- ah, before we have a proper conversation about-” he suddenly squeezes Minho’s hips tightly and moans. And the sensation, the liquid warmth that spills inside of him, makes Minho moan too. He dives back down to swallow Jisung’s voice.

He knows that Jisung is holding back from fucking him through his high, and he’d like to tell him he doesn’t have to, but he doesn’t have any energy left so he just dumps his tongue into Jisung’s mouth and lets him suck on it.

It might not be his own orgasm, but it feels good, nevertheless – with Jisung using the last drops of his strength to thrust into him gently, body shaking from stimulation underneath him, and mouth mingling with his own in a possessive yet sweet manner.

And then there’s absolutely nothing, just the feeling of Jisung’s chest heaving and falling under him.

Jisung rolls them over and pulls out.

Minho kind of wants to protest but he doesn’t have enough strength to even open his mouth, much less to use his voice. Everything feels hazy. He forces himself to open his eyes and watch Jisung limp towards the night table, then return towards him and hand him a tissue.

There’s no time to take it, though, because Jisung changes his mind immediately. Locking his eyes with Minho, he cleans him off without saying anything, then proceeds to do the same for himself.

And then, he lies down beside Minho.

He keeps his gaze on the younger, finding it fairly hard to keep them open. Whatever will happen next, it will have to do without Minho’s consciousness. Much to his surprise, nothing happens – but Jisung doesn’t take his eyes off him, and he doesn’t either.

And then Jisung’s features relax into a gentle smile. 

“Get some rest,” he whispers, then, reaching out to caress Minho’s face; Minho loses his breath in answer. “You must be tired.”

He doesn’t say anything, too exhausted to open his mouth, and nor does he nod because Jisung’s eyes have drifted shut already. So, he simply brings Jisung’s hand away from his face to intertwine their fingers and let them rest against his chest and closes his eyes too.

Jisung wakes up to an empty bed, which makes him worry about Minho having second thoughts and leaving. It’s not like it hasn’t happened to him before, and it’s not like _he_ hasn’t done that at least once. Sometimes people don’t work out, and even though the night is great, the mornings can feel wrong. But that doesn’t sound right, at least not with what the two of them developed over the last two days.

He will respect it if Minho regrets what happened. He’s allowed to have high expectations and strong feelings about his first time. It would be selfish of him to expect that he liked it as much as Jisung did. That doesn’t make him any less bitter, though.

That, combined with the rumble of his empty stomach – totally understandable, after such eventful night –, drags him out of bed.

To find the older standing at the stove and making pancakes.

The best way to chase away his worries if you ask him.

He walks into the kitchen when he’s lured by the smell, and Minho doesn’t immediately notice him. Which gives him a moment to appreciate the relaxed and satisfied humming and a slight happy skip to his movements. He can’t help but think it’s cute.

For the record, he fell for a fairly grumpy yet handsome dancer that seemed to have a bubbly laughter and a soft spot for cats. He got lucky enough to approach him as a hot one night stand – lustful glances, tight jeans and hair styled back.

It’s been more than just _one night_ though, and the familiarity he feels towards Minho when he secretly watches him stroll around _his own_ kitchen shouldn’t make sense. Yet it does, much so. 

And seeing him in this form, _the ultimate form,_ he’d like to say, makes him realise yet another thing about Minho: he picked up a goofball. Oh, and how much he wants to keep it.

Then, Minho turns around and does a double take, acknowledging Jisung’s presence with a soft ‘oh’ coming from his lips and his body tensing and relaxing before his skin flushes pink. It doesn’t take long until he becomes comfortable about the situation, seeing as Jisung doesn’t have much to say about it either – which is mostly the result of an internal gushing and absolute adoration for the older.

“Take a seat, they should be done any minute now,” Minho offers, pointing at the table counter. Jisung complies quickly, tidying away some of the mess that’s scattered around the surface. Mostly schoolwork and taxes notebooks. He’s a studious person, that is.

“You didn’t have to,” he chooses to say when the silence between them stretches for too long. It’s not awkward, but he feels like he should mention this. From the way Minho acts, he assumes these are meant as a _thank you_ or something – and there’s absolutely nothing he should be thanking for. That night was an obvious thing, after all. If anything, it should be Jisung thanking him for getting another chance.

Minho looks at him as if he could see that entire process of thoughts, and strongly disagrees.

“I mean, thank you,” he corrects himself, now feeling his cheeks to warm up, “they taste incredibly good. I love pancakes,” Minho flashes him a proud, gentle smile; he wants to kiss it away, “but you must be tired. You could have stayed in bed.”

“I felt like getting familiar with the place,” Minho admits, and it _totally_ doesn’t make Jisung stutter and choke on the pancake. The older simply offers him a glass of water.

He isn’t sure what that means – is Minho implying he’s expecting something out of this? Does he want to come here again? As a date or just for sex? Either would be fine, no, amazing.

They don’t talk much afterwards, spare for occasional comments about how good the pancakes are or about plans for the weeks. Jisung swears it should be more awkward, but with Minho, it simply feels like catching up with a friend.

A friend with benefits. More than a friend – less than a lover.

As of now, at least.

“I don’t have any classes on Thursday,” Minho casually mentions as they go, then chuckles when Jisung perks up. Jisung groans in embarrassment, and Minho playfully hits his arm. “I actually meant to ask you out, but yeah, we can end up in your bed.”

“The grand finale,” he jokes to shake off some of the stress. His heart is beating hard against his ribcage – it’s ridiculous because it’s not like this is his first ever date. Not even Minho’s, probably, so he doesn’t have to try making it perfect. No, he will do that anyway.

It feels exciting, nevertheless. 

“Only of the date, hopefully,” Minho replies cheekily. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, and a sparkle in his eyes that has Jisung cooing. “for our relationship, I’d rather think of it as the prequel, though.” 


End file.
